


Angels

by ConfusedSaltyKitKat



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I'm Very Sorry About This, Kyle Broflovski is a Good Friend, honestly idk what i’m doing, i mean the first chapter's kinda nice, kenny's pretty ooc in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:21:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25274596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfusedSaltyKitKat/pseuds/ConfusedSaltyKitKat
Summary: Kenny McCormick and Karen McCormick are siblings, two siblings so close that nothing would be able to tear them apart. Kenny cares too much to let that happen.Things seem to be okay for a bit. But then again, peace never lasts long when you live in South Park.Somewhat inspired by https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y46uRo4-WZI this wonderful song that I listened to on repeat for six days. (sorry, I suck at coding)I don't know what I was thinking while writing this. But anyway.
Relationships: Karen McCormick/Tricia Tucker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

When Carol McCormick had told five-year-old Kenny that angels lived forever, he believed her. 

With wide, iris-colored eyes, he stared up at her in awe as she shifted around to make both of them comfortable. “Really? But.. mom, don’t they ever get sad?”

She blinked down at him, startled by his question. “Sad?”

“Yeah! They’ll be all alone with nobody else to talk to,” he said as he turned away to look at the television. They were watching some show about singers. Carol didn’t know any of them, and she didn’t really care about the show, either, but Kenny loved it. He loved lots of things that had to do with art. Who he’d gotten the fascination from, his mother certainly didn’t know. 

“Well, they have animals and other angels to talk to, honey. Sure, some of their friends will have to leave, but they’ll never be alone. And besides, some of those friends might actually become angels when they die!” Carol smiled at him, holding his tiny hands in hers. “So they won’t ever be sad for long.”

Kenny’s eyes widened. He stayed silent for a moment, thinking. “I think I know an angel,” he said at last. 

“Really? Who?” Carol asked, still smiling down at him. 

“Well, maybe more than one! I think you’re an angel, mom. And this kid I met the other day. His name is Butters!”

“Butters?”

“Mhm! He’s really nice and cares a lot about everyone else. I don’t know why, though. Some of the other kids are really mean to him for no reason. Oh, and there’s another one! His name’s Philip but everyone calls him Pip.”

“Really, now?” She said, to which he nodded eagerly. “Well, I’m not much of an angel, Kenny. I think the real angel’s you.” 

She was right, in a way. He was cursed. But neither knew this at the time. 

“Well, even so! I think you’re going to be one when you have to go. And Kevin, too.”

Carol squeezed his hands. “I hope so,” she replied. 

When seven-year-old Kenny had first heard about his mother being pregnant, he was annoyed. Another child being brought into the world when their current situation was already terrible? Really?

When he’d voiced these thoughts to Kevin, his older brother just laughed at him, which bothered Kenny even more. 

“I know, Ken. But look at it this way. Now you’ll have someone else to play with. An’ I felt the same way when Ma had you. It’s natural.”

“I guess,” Kenny muttered, glaring down at the floor with his arms crossed in his usual fashion. It made him look like even more of a child than he already was.

“Aw, don’t look so down. I bet you’ll end up lovin’ them.” Kevin reached over and ruffled his golden hair. Nobody knew who he’d gotten it from, seeing as nobody in the family was blonde. “Maybe they’ll have hair like yours, too!”

Kenny brightened up at that, but still seemed a little sad. “Okay. I’m gonna go over to Stan’s now! See ya, Kev!” He hugged him before racing out the door. 

Kevin chuckled. He was only four years older than him, but it was like having a child of his own. 

The first time Kenny laid eyes on the child, he cried. 

It wasn’t because he was sad. Well, maybe it was. But the baby was so… he couldn’t think of the right word. Maybe that was because he was only seven and his vocabulary still wasn’t very large. He wiped his snot and tears away before turning to Carol. “Can-can I-?”

She smiled warmly at him. “Ya wanna hold her?”

“Mhm!” He smiled back as Karen was placed into his arms. She blinked sleepily up at him, curiosity glimmering in her hazel eyes.

He stared back, mouth open in a little ‘o’. “She’s so pretty! I think.. I think she’s an angel, mom.”

Carol chuckled at that. “Like her brother.”

In that moment, it was clear they’d have a very, very strong connection. Kevin was right about something. Karen wasn’t blonde; she had caramel brown hair like the rest of her family, but she was definitely loved by Kenny. Pure adoration.

A few days later, they’d return home with Karen. And Kenny would want to do nothing more than play with her and feed her and care for her while their parents were working. 

He’d even ended up staying home on school days to watch her. Stan and Kyle showed up at his house later one particular day, questioning him about where he was. 

“Shush! Karen’s sleeping,” he muttered, gesturing to the sofa and glaring at the pair. “You two are loud, by the way.”

They seemed unnerved by this, and also the fact that he wasn’t wearing his usual parka. “Sorry,” Kyle whispered. “But are you going to come back to school soon?”

“Yeah, Kev’s got a girlfriend and her mom doesn’t mind watchin’ Karen so I’ll be back by tomorrow.” He grinned at his friends. “I didn’t know you guys cared about me this much.”

“Well, things are just a little more boring without you,” Kyle replies. Stan shoves him.

“We’re your friends, dude! Of course we’d care.”

Kenny laughs. “Okay! See you two tomorrow, then.”

“Bye, Kenny,” they respond as they exit the house. He then returned to the sofa and sat next to Karen, turning the tv on.

He began to doze off, having not really slept at all within the past three days. His last thoughts were of Karen, and his friends. 

A six-year-old Karen and a thirteen-year-old Kenny stand at the bus stop together, the former shivering as the freezing rain pours down on them. Kenny glances at her and quickly shrugs his coat off, placing it on her shoulders. “There you go.”

She gives him a crooked smile and a hug, trying to stop her shudders. “Thanks, Kenny!” 

“I don’t want you getting sick,” He replies, hugging her back. He knows _he’s_ going to get sick, though, but doesn’t really mind. As long as Karen’s fine. 

She sends him a concerned look, though, and he only responds by shrugging. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to cold weather like this.”

“Are you _sure_?” Karen asks, tugging at his shirt. She doesn’t really trust that her brother’s fine, as she shouldn’t. Even she knows he’s going to get sick.

“Mhm! I’ll be okay. And I can probably ask Stan if I can borrow his extra sweater if I do get cold, so don’t worry, okay, Kare-Bear?” He grins at her. 

She giggles, and decides to believe him. “Okay, Kenny.”

Luckily, the bus comes quickly and they don’t have to stand outside much longer. Karen handed his coat back, but Kenny made sure she kept it. “You can give it back when we get home, alright?”

“Okay.” She sat next to him and he wrapped his arm around her, feeling very protective. 

“Hey, you’d tell me if anyone was picking on you, wouldn’t ya?” He asked.

“Of course I would,” she replied, rolling her eyes and poking him in the stomach.

"Okay, I’m just making sure.”

Karen sighed, annoyed by his behavior, but smiled anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a Friday when the accident happened. It wasn’t supposed to be her, it was supposed to be him, because he could come back. She couldn’t.

He’d crouched over her body and picked her up, rushing off to the hospital. Whispering her name over and over. She wasn’t supposed to get hurt, she wasn’t supposed to die. She wasn’t supposed to bleed out on the street like this. She wasn’t supposed to suffer. She was too sweet, too kindhearted, to deserve this. She was an angel. 

Carol had once told him angels couldn’t die. He’d believed it. But of course, that was just another lie. Because one of the only angels that came out of South Park was currently bleeding out in his arms. And he couldn’t do anything but try to press gauze against her wound and stop the bleeding as he went. Even that couldn’t help it, though. 

“Hey,” she croaked, smiling tiredly. Her hands went up to his face as she managed to stare up into his blue eyes. “Don’t be sad.”

“You can’t die,” Kenny mumbled, tears streaming down his cheeks as he took one of her hands and held it in his own. “You _can’t_. Please hold on. We’re almost there.”

“Well.” She coughed, blood running down her chin and onto his jacket. “Everyone does… at some time, right?”

“Yes, but you _can’t!_ You weren’t supposed to get hurt, it was supposed to be me!” He paused, on the verge of sobbing and out of breath. “It was supposed to be me. You can’t come back, Karen.”

“Neither can you,” she replied, still smiling, and Kenny would have laughed at the statement, if not for the fact that she was dying. He’d forgotten nobody could remember. 

He held her close as he fell to his knees, gasping for air. Karen winced, feeling the cold snow beneath her. She stared up at her brother, expression contorted into a mixture of sadness, wonder, and gratitude. “Hey, Kenny,” she murmured. “D’you mind… saying goodbye to Tricia for me? And tell her I’m sorry.”

“You won’t have to say goodbye, and this isn’t on you,” he replied fiercely after having found his breath. “You are _not going to die!_ Do you hear me? You can’t.” He pressed harder against her wound with what gauze he had left and began to move her back into his arms. But she pushed his hands away.

“Kenny,” she whispered, staring into his eyes as she let a few tears of her own fall. “It’s okay. Thank you for being my guardian angel.” 

“Karen, _please hang on_ ,” he responded, grasping her hands in his, a pleading look in his eyes mixed with anger—at himself, anguish, and what seemed to be emptiness. He seemed to be... lost. Hopeless. “Please. I can’t lose you.” 

\ “Kenny,” she repeated. “It’s alright. And you won’t ever lose me.. I’ll always be close, even if you can’t see me. Alright?” She managed another smile, bright and cheerful as ever. But there was something hidden under it, seemingly pain and regret. “I love you, big brother.” 

He let his hood fall as he managed to smile back for her sake, even though it hurt. It hurt so much. “I love you too, Karen.” Snow got in his hair and on his bloody jacket, but he didn’t mind it. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she murmured. “It’s not your fault.” And then her eyes were shut. And she was gone. 

It was silent, except for himself and the wind. His pride and joy was gone. She was dead. Even though she’d told him he wasn’t at fault, he still felt responsible. He felt guilty. He shouldn’t have stopped, maybe he could’ve made it in time to the hospital if he didn’t..! 

No, he knew he wouldn’t have anyway. He always knew when people were on the verge of death; he’d been on it enough to be able to identify it in their eyes. Somehow, that made him worse. He stayed out there with her body for so long, hugging the lifeless thing against his chest even though she was gone. He didn’t know what time it was when Kyle shook him awake, standing over him. 

“Kenny, what happened?” The ginger asked. He would’ve explained, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a wail came out and he was crying again. He felt useless like this, as if he could still do something to help Karen. But she was gone. 

She was gone and he couldn’t do anything to bring her back. 

Kyle jumped, alarmed by the sound, but he sat down next to Kenny and hugged him. “Hey, dude. It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not,” Kenny replied weakly, but he didn’t try to push his friend away. He buried his face in his chest as his sobs came out harder and louder than they should’ve. He was shaking, terrified and grief-stricken. But he was also confused as to why he was reacting this way. He died all the time. He should've been used to being hurt and seeing death. But he wasn't. 

Kyle didn’t respond. He just let him cry, even though his sweater was getting wet and he could feel it through his shirt. He wrapped his arms around the boy, hoping his attempts at comfort could help. Because god knows his words wouldn’t. He was shit at trying to comfort people with words. 

Quite a bit of time passed before Kenny actually managed to calm down. He looked up at Kyle with red, puffy eyes. “‘M sorry for getting your sweater wet.” 

“It’s alright, dude.” He smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay,” he mumbled, looking down. He kept his gaze on his legs, determined not to look at Karen’s body. He knew that if he did, he’d start crying all over again. He didn’t want that. 

Kyle sighed. “Do you want me to call someone?” He asked. 

“Kevin,” Kenny whispered. “He needs to know.” 

“Alright, dude.” He dialed his number and waited for him to answer. 

“Hello?” A familiar voice said. 

“Hey, Kevin. It’s Kyle.” 

“You with Kenny?” He asked. 

“Yeah, um.. I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to say this. But it’s about Karen. She’s…” he glanced at her body, feeling terrible. She and Ike were very close. He’d be heartbroken to hear about what happened to her. “Gone.” 

Kevin was silent. After a while, he asked, “Where are you?” 

“Near Hell’s Pass. You should see us as soon as you turn right on the main road.” 

“Okay. I’m coming. How’s Kenny holdin’ up?” 

Kyle glanced down at his blonde friend, who was staring blankly down into his hands. “A little better than he was before. I think.” 

“Alright.” And then he hung up. 

“Hey, dude. Kev’s coming. You gonna be okay?” 

Kenny moved his gaze to meet Kyle’s. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. 

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. 

A tense, uncomfortable silence settled over them. At last Kenny spoke once again. 

“When she was.. bleeding out, and I was trying to get her over to the hospital, she–“ he choked on his words, trying to hold back his tears. He exhaled several times before trying again. “She called me.. her guardian angel. But I couldn’t– _I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t_. I couldn’t save her, and now she’s _gone_ , Kyle. She’s gone and I couldn’t do anything to help.” He looked away, sniffling. 

Kyle wiped his face carefully, as though he were fragile as glass. He tried to think of something to say, something that would help. “There’s always going to be a time where nobody can do anything to help. But that’s okay. Because as long as you were there for them in the past, then it’s okay. You don’t need to put yourself down like this. Karen wouldn’t want you to.” 

He laughed a chilling, cold, lifeless laugh. “Because she was too good to everyone. She wouldn’t want me to because she was too kind and caring for her own good. Even while she was dying, she called _me_ the angel. She was trying to comfort me. She was _dying_ and she was trying to make me feel better.” He laughed again, this one filled with pain and anguish. “Isn’t that ironic?” 

“Kenny,” Kyle started. But he didn’t know how to finish it. So he pulled his friend into a hug. 

“Once, when I was younger, my mother said that angels can’t die. But Karen–“ he shifted closer to Kyle, his words muffled. “Karen was an angel. She was the best. She had me convinced she was one. So I protected her. I wanted to make sure she’d never get hurt or have to face all the shit that we did. That failed. And my mother was a liar,” he finished bitterly. 

Kyle said nothing, he just pulled his friend closer. And they sat like that, Kenny sniffling, as they waited for Kevin to pull up. 

He did, and he stepped out of his truck once he pulled over, rushing to the two. “Where’s she at?” 

Kenny didn’t move. But Kyle shifted so Kevin could see the body. 

He crouched near the two and sighed, picking what used to be Karen up. She must’ve felt cold. 

They said nothing as they got into Kevin’s truck, Kenny still attached to Kyle. He didn’t mind. 

“How long since she died?” Kevin asked. They hadn’t started driving yet. 

Kyle shrugged. But Kenny bit his lip, trying to keep his throat from closing up. He couldn’t help it, though. “I was walking with her from the Tweaks’ coffee shop when–when it happened. It was around six. We crossed the street, an–“ he broke off, looking away as tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. He hated himself for crying so much. “She dropped somethin’. I tried to go get it for her, but she didn’t want me to. So I told her to be careful, and I waited for her on the sidewalk. But a car–it came by, the fucking driver wasn’t paying attention, and it hit her, and she–“ he stopped there, pressing his face into Kyle’s shoulder again as he tried to quiet himself. 

Kevin had started crying, too, but it wasn’t as bad. He sighed and wiped at his eyes. “Ken, it ain’t your fault.” 

“Yes, it is!” He snapped, glaring over at his brother with puffy eyes. He looked like a mess. He looked sick. He probably was sick. His gaze dropped to his hands. “I shouldn’t have let her go, I should’ve been the one to go. She shouldn’t have died.” 

“You would’ve gotten hit by that car, then. It was either you or her who would’ve died.” 

“I DON’T CARE!” Kenny snarled, pulling at his hair. “At least she’d still be alive! She’d still be okay! I don’t care if I get hurt! If she’s fine, then I’m _perfectly happy_ with getting hit by a fucking car!” 

Kevin didn’t know what to say about that. So he stayed silent and began driving. Karen’s lifeless body was in the backseat, carefully placed there as if she was still alive.  
“I’ve gotta call a few people. D’you mind takin’ him with you?” Kevin asked at one point while they were driving back down the street. 

“That’s fine,” Kyle responded, hugging said boy close. Kenny didn’t react. He didn’t even seem to hear them, actually. He just sat there, staring blankly at his hands.  
They arrived at Kyle’s house pretty quickly and Kevin waved them off. “Go on, Kenny,” he said, patting his shoulder. He flinched away but followed Kyle, who’d already gotten out. 

“C’mon, Ken. You can stay the night if you want, too. And we can invite Stan and Butters, and even Cartman if you want. Okay?” 

He looked up at him, his face still wet. He nodded, but turned to look at Kevin. “Is—” 

“I’ll be fine, Kenny,” he said roughly, startling his younger brother. He paused and smiled apologetically. “Sorry. Just go with Kyle, alright?” 

“Okay,” he whispered as he closed the door, heading to Kyle’s side. The ginger put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him along to the front door. Kevin watched for a moment, before pulling off. 

“Hey, Ma,” Kyle called as they stepped in. “Do you mind if Kenny stays over?” 

“Of course not, bubby,” she replies from somewhere in the kitchen. “Are you two hungry?” 

Kyle glanced at Kenny, unsure. He only shrugged, looking down. So Kyle replied. “Yeah.” 

It was around eleven in the morning on Saturday. So basically, lunchtime. Kyle grabbed his friend’s hand gently and pulled him along to the kitchen. They sat down at the table with a bored Ike. His eyes lit up when he noticed said friend. 

“Hey, Kenny!” 

Kenny jumped. His lifeless gaze travelled up to Ike. A bit of surprise flashed in his face but it quickly disappeared, and he replaced it with a small, strained smile. “Hey, Ike.” 

He raised a brow, obviously noticing something was up, and looked quizzically over at Kyle, who glanced away guiltily. Luckily though, Ike didn’t bother to try to push any further on the matter. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try later. 

Sheila came over to the table, setting down sandwiches in front of them. “Here you go!” 

“Thanks,” Kenny murmured, but he didn’t touch it. Kyle nudged him gently. 

“Eat, Kenny. You’ve gotta.” 

He picked the sandwich up and took a small bite from it. Kyle smiled. “There you go.” 

Ike watched this awkwardly as he ate his own. Once Sheila left the kitchen, telling Kyle to wash the dishes, he stood up. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Kenny didn’t meet his gaze. Kyle glanced between the two, guilt and worry in his eyes. “Uh, Kenny, do you want me to—” he starts, but Kenny shakes his head. 

“I will, but not now, please,” he mumbles. Ike shoots him a concerned look but turns to Kyle, who keeps his mouth shut. 

Once Kenny finished his sandwich, and Kyle was done with the dishes, he lead his friend up to his room and sat him on his bed. 

“Do you want me to call the others?” He asked. Kenny just shrugged. 

“If you want to,” he replied, his voice still quiet. Earlier he was crying his eyes out, and then he was shouting at his brother, and Kyle would prefer either of those to what he was seeing now. The once rowdy, lewd, joking Kenny was now an empty shell of what he’d once been. He sighed and sat down next to him. 

“Alright.” So he decided to call Stan. But he didn’t answer. Huffing, Kyle tried calling Cartman. 

“Hello?” A familiar, high-pitched voice said. 

“Cartman?” Kyle replied. 

“Oh, the Jew,” he said. “What do you want?” 

“Are you with Stan and Butters?” Kyle asked, ignoring his first sentence. 

“Yes. What the hell do you want?”  
“I need you guys to come over, it’s important.”  
“Why?” 

“Can you just—ugh,” Kyle growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He moved away from the bed and lowered his voice. “It’s about Kenny.” 

“What? What’s wrong with Kinny?” Cartman asked, concern laced into his words. Said boy looked up, as if he’d heard him, but he moved his gaze back to the wall opposite of him. 

“I don’t know if he wants me to say,” Kyle says, beginning to pace back and forth. “Can you just bring the other two?” 

“Okay, but I’m only doing this for Kinny. You owe me, Jewboy. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”  
“Whatever. Just hurry up. Oh, and tell Stan to charge his phone more often. I tried calling him earlier but he didn’t answer. I know it was dead.” 

He ended the call, sliding his phone away just as Kenny stood and rushed to the bathroom, holding his stomach. Kyle followed, confused. He watched as his friend kneeled over the toilet, cringing in pain. Kyle was at his side in an instant, a hand on his back. Kenny weakly pushed him away as he began to heave up the sandwich he’d eaten not long ago. The ginger didn’t move, though. He just grabbed one of his friend’s hands and squeezed it in his. 

Kenny continued to vomit. Then it wasn’t just food he was vomiting up. It was blood, too. He sat up, coughing and wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. 

“You alright?” Kyle asked, peering into the toilet with concern. 

“Mhm,” Kenny responded, wincing. His throat burned. He stood and turned to the sink to wash his hands. 

“Wanna head back to the room now?” 

Kenny didn't say anything. He allowed Kyle to lead him back to the bed and he sat there, his knees pulled against his chest as he stared blankly at the ground. 

This bothered Kyle greatly. He opened his mouth to say something but he didn’t know what to say. _What, it’s going to be okay? That’s a lie. We’re here for you?? That’s so cliche and stupid and it sounds empty even though it’s true. Ugh._ He pressed his palms against his face. _What am I supposed to say?_

So he decided not to say anything. He just sat next to Kenny once again and also stared at the floor. 

They stayed like that, silent. It was a tense kind of silence, but at the same time, it was comfortable, as though they had these moments all the time. But soon enough he can hear the doorbell ringing. 

“Kyle, dear, can you answer the door?” Sheila called. 

“Okay, mom,” he replies, standing up. He turns to Kenny. “I’ll be back.” But he doesn’t seem to hear. Kyle just sighs and heads downstairs to open the door. 

His three idiot friends are standing there. “Hey,” Stan says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Kyle raises a brow but lets them in. “He’s upstairs, come on. Don’t be an asshole to him, Cartman,” he adds, shutting the door behind the trio. Butters laughs awkwardly and heads up with Stan behind him. 

Cartman rolls his eyes. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he says stoutly, but follows after the others, Kyle bringing up the rear. 

Kenny is still sitting in the same position when his friends file into the room. He glances up at them in surprise, but that eerie emptiness returns to his gaze shortly after.  
“Heya, Kenny!” Butters says, sitting on his left and placing an arm around his shoulders. He stiffens at the touch, curling closer in on himself. 

“Hi,” he mumbles, shutting his eyes. He vaguely thinks that Kyle shouldn’t have brought Cartman, but doesn’t seem to mind as said boy comes up and places his hands on Kenny’s shoulders rather gently. 

“Kenny,” he says, finally pronouncing it right, which startles him. “I’m your best friend, right?” To which he shrugs in response. Cartman huffs. “Well, guess what. You’re my best friend, even if you don’t feel the same, and I wanna know what’s going on!” 

He doesn’t respond now, pointedly looking away from all of them. Stan sighed. 

“Dude, if you don’t tell us what’s wrong, we won’t know how to help,” he said, exasperated. Kenny’s blank face morphs into anger. He pushes Cartman away and glares at Stan, the first emotion he's really shown all day. None of them notice the little noirette standing at the doorway quietly, waiting for them.

“Karen’s dead,” he snarls. He’s almost as loud as he was earlier, when he’d shouted at Kevin. But he doesn’t notice. “She’s _dead_! And I can’t fucking do anything about it! And your fucking _pestering_ ,” he turns his glare on the other two, “is not helping.” He pulls his orange hood over his head and hides his face, anger slowly melting away and being replaced with more stupid tears. It wasn’t their fault, they just wanted to help. Just like Kevin was trying to do earlier. He felt terrible now. For snapping at his friends and his brother, as well as being unable to save Karen. He’d let down the one person he truly cared about and now she was gone. 

Stan’s expression softens. He studied his friend with that pitying gaze he got whenever something like this happened to someone else. 

Footsteps are heard but they’re not really acknowledged until a sixth person is standing in front of Kenny. “Karen’s gone?” Ike asks blankly. 

Kenny doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t want to see his expression. He doesn’t want to know how Ike will react. He cowers away, hands going to his hair as he shakes. Because he knows that Ike will blame him for her death, and he knows that it’s true. It is his fault. 

“ _Answer me_ ,” Ike barks, grabbing his arm and yanking it hard enough for Kenny to yelp in pain. Cartman starts towards the boy furiously but Kyle shakes his head, pushing him back. 

Kenny still doesn’t look. But he nods, stupid salty droplets sliding down his cheeks. 

Ike stands there, relaxing his grip on Kenny’s arm. His face gives nothing away, no emotions shown at all whatsoever. It’s that look he has when he’s thinking; when he’s analyzing something. He removes his hand altogether, seeing the guilt and self-hatred in Kenny’s face, in his eyes. He knows Kenny is suffering. 

Kyle watches the interactions between them carefully, with a wary expression. Ike seemed to know it wasn’t Kenny’s fault, no matter how many times he said it was. Finally he speaks, in that empty, monotonous tone of his. “How did she die?” 

Kenny shifts. He finally makes eye contact with Ike, but not for long. “She got hit by a car while picking something up.” Anger flashes in his eyes as he blinks away tears. “Fucking driver didn’t even stop to see if she was okay. She was hit by something really sharp… it tore right into her side and she wouldn’t stop bleeding, no matter how much gauze I put on and how hard I pressed.” He can feel the lump in his throat forming again and his breathing begins to shorten. His hands move back to his hair, but Ike pushes them away. 

“What happened after?” 

Kenny swallows. “Tried to get her to the hospital… was too late. She, um.” He looked to the side, trying to keep himself calm. “She died,” his voice broke off. Goddammit. Keep it together. You’re okay. You’re okay. Stop fucking crying. Stop it. “While I was holding her. Bled out.” 

Ike’s mask breaks for a moment, a millisecond, and he allows a few tears of his own to slip out, his face twisted in anguish. But he quickly wipes them away and he’s back to normal. “I see,” he said. And then he left the room. 

The other three—Stan, Cartman, and Butters—watched, bewildered. After a moment Stan says, in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Your brother scares me, dude.”

Kyle shrugs. “It’s Ike. That’s how he’s always been.” He sits next to Kenny once again and pats his back gently, who in return, scoots closer to the ginger. They seemed to have built some sort of trust, seeing as Kyle was the one who found him. 

“Are you alright?” Stan asked Kenny. He snorted. 

“I don’t know, do I look okay?” He responded in an empty tone that matched Ike’s, wiping his face. 

“Oh, gee. It’ll be okay, bud,” Butters said, patting his friend’s hand. Kenny stiffened at the touch, again, looking away. 

Another thing, he thought, that was nice about Kyle, was that he didn’t use all those lines that everyone else did. He seemed to know that none of those words sounded like they actually meant anything, that they were just empty. They were used too much. Kyle knew that Kenny really just needed someone to hug him, someone that’d let him cry into their chest or their shoulder, even if they ended up with a soggy shirt. The others didn’t seem to understand this. 

Butters pulled away, sensing his tension, and feeling a little bad. He glanced back at the other two, confused and a little upset. Stan shrugged, while Cartman just sighed in annoyance and sat in the chair at Kyle’s desk. 

They stood around awkwardly for a while before Stan cleared his throat. “So,” he started. “What should we do?” 

Nobody answered immediately, a few uneasy shrugs and nervous glances shared between the group. Stan began pacing. 

“O-oh, we could go to the park?” Butters suggested, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Everyone okay with that?” Stan asked. More shrugs. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” 

Kyle pulled Kenny up with him and linked their arms together, following at the back of the group. Sheila glanced up at them as they passed in front of the couch. “Where are you boys goin’?” 

“Oh, we're goin' off to the park, Ma’am,” Butters answered, smiling brightly. 

“Oh, alright. You boys be careful!” She smiled back and returned to reading her book. 

Kyle locked the door behind them. “Are we gonna walk or d’you wanna drive, Stan?” 

“Let’s walk. Cartman could use the exercise anyway,” he joked, earning laughs from him and Butters while Cartman protested. Stan glanced at Kenny, but he hadn’t reacted at all to it. He frowned and turned back, walking ahead of the others. 

A day before the funeral, Kenny went over to the Tucker residence. He hadn’t really gotten better, but at least he wasn’t crying every time someone mentioned Karen now. Now, he could actually smile, but it always had this strange... strained feeling. Because it was. So there he stood on the Tuckers’ porch, awkwardly waiting for someone to answer the door. 

Craig opened it. “McCormick,” he stated, eyes boring into him. “What d’you need?” 

“Can I talk with Tricia? It’s about Karen,” he replied, keeping himself calm. 

For once, Craig actually showed a bit of emotion. Pity. Of course, that’d be the only emotion he’d show to Kenny. Or anyone that wasn’t his sister, Stripe, or Tweek, for that matter. He nodded and held the door open for the blond, who managed to give him a small, grateful smile. 

“Oh, hello, Kenny,” Laura Tucker greeted him as she dried a plate, smiling. But the smile disappeared. “I heard about what happened to your sister. I’m so sorry. Please tell Carol you’re all welcome to come over anytime.” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” he murmured, fiddling with the drawstrings on his orange sweater. “I came to speak with Tricia. Is-is she here?” 

“Oh, yes. Ruby!” Laura called, setting the last plate down. 

She appeared at the top of the staircase, looking as empty as Kenny felt. “What.” 

Kenny waved at her. “Could we talk?” 

Tricia’s eyes widened. She nodded and hopped down the stairs, heading to the sofa in their living room. Sitting down, the girl patted the cushion next to her. Kenny sat there, opening his mouth and closing it for a moment before he actually started. 

“Karen always thought of you as her best friend. Actually, no, that’s wrong. She thought you were much more than that.” He smiled fondly as he remembered his sister ranting about how much she liked Ruby. “She always said, ‘I want to be just like her.’ Then one day, she stopped right in the middle of her sentence and looked right at me, with her beautiful little hazel eyes. And she told me, ‘I think I’m in love, Kenny.’ She… She loved you so much, Trish.” He paused to take a breath and swallow as he felt that familiar lump in his throat, chancing a glance over at the girl, who had begun to tear up. 

“Go on,” she said, sniffling. 

“Even when she was.. Dying, she was thinking of you. When I held her in my arms, she told me to tell you she was sorry.” He chuckled bitterly. “She was sorry for somethin’ that wasn’t even her fault. Just like her to take the blame.” 

“Yeah,” Tricia responded, cracking a wistful smile. “Sounds just like her.” 

“Right?” He paused again before going on. “She really was an angel.” 

“The best.”  
A comfortable silence settled over them. Tricia spoke again soon after. 

“I wish angels couldn’t die.” 

Surprise. Then Kenny nodded. “So do I.” 

Tricia looked up at him finally, smiling again. “Will you come over more often?” 

“Sure, Trish. I think Karen would be happy to see two of her favorite people hanging out together.” He smiled back. 

“Yep.” A pause. Then Tricia hugged him. “Thank you for telling me all that, Kenny.” 

He froze, but quickly returned the hug. “No problem. I sorta owed it to both you and Karen anyway. She would’ve told you all that stuff about how she loved you, if she only… had a little more time.” 

Tricia finally let herself actually cry as she hugged her best friend’s brother. Her small sniffles and sobs were muffled by his orange jacket. 

He patted her back. Karen’s connections with both of them were different, but Kenny had an idea of how Tricia felt. After all, he’d been sobbing into one of his friends’ shoulders not long ago. He didn’t say anything, just let her cry. 

_Craig had entered the living room and watched them for quite a bit of time. He was quiet enough that they didn’t notice him. He seemed to be waiting._

Finally Tricia calmed down. She rubbed at her wet eyes tiredly. “Thanks, Kenny.” 

He just smiled at her. “Anything for someone my sister cares deeply about. And if you need anything, tell Craig to give you his phone and let you call me up.” 

Craig rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just give her your phone number,” he suggested, making both of them jump. Kenny chuckled. 

“Alright, then, Tucker. Here,” he said, pulling a pencil and a piece of paper out of one of his many pockets and writing his number down. “Message me anytime, Trish.” He handed it to her. 

“Why do you call her by her first name but not me? We both have the same last name. It gets confusing,” Craig asked in that monotonous tone of his. 

“Because you call me McCormick, and the only person I call Tucker in your family is you, Craigory,” he replied, smiling. He stood. “I have to go, we’ve gotta deal with the.. funeral.” His smile dropped. “See you guys tomorrow.” 

“Bye, Kenny,” Tricia said, waving as he left. Craig snorted and shut the door. 

Kenny sighed and began the walk to his own home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, thanks for reading this trainwreck of a story idea i got at three in the morning the other day! i hope you enjoyed it hhhh  
> honestly i just wanted to write some sad fic about kenny that. started out somewhat nicely??  
> sorry if the writing seems,,, stiff, i suck at conveying emotions that aren't frustration, anger, or anxiety because honestly i don't really feel emotion??? idk why  
> so uh  
> yeah thanks for reading  
> final chapter will probably be posted in the next two weeks? idk  
> edited bc something was wrong with the code hhhh


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